Death Eater Rebellion of 2006
by malfoyforever
Summary: Trouble is inadvertably making its way into the wizarding world, once more. High security prisoners have vanished, without a trace, from Azkaban - other strange events lead Harry and his friends to believe that no, all is not well. HIATUS.
1. Cheers for a Better New Year

**_New Year's Eve 2005__, Shell Cottage _**

Victoire peered out of the window. Her father was walking towards their front door, no doubt had he just Apparated in the driveway of their cottage, Shell Cottage.

She opened the door. "Dad!" she said happily.

Bill Weasley hung his coat on the coat rack and ruffled his daughter's hair. "Someone's excited to see me," he chuckled, and lifted her in his arms. Victoire could see that he was troubled, however; these days, he and her _maman_ would stay shut in their bedroom, urgently whispering about some "Death Eater" problem. He seemed exhausted and he had dark circles under his eyes.

"Bill! You are 'ome?" came Fleur's voice from the kitchen, where she was cooking lamb chops and snails for their New Year's Eve dinner. Delicious smells floated from the kitchen: Victoire had spent most of the day there, helping her _maman_.

"Yes, Fleur," came Bill's reply. He put Victoire down. "I have to talk to your _mère_." He strolled towards the kitchen and closed the door behind him.

The six year-old went to find her younger sister, Dominique, and they pressed their little ears on the door.

"This is bad," Bill was saying. "Shacklebolt fears a rebellion. There have been breakouts in Azkaban all year: Umbridge, Greyback, and the Carrows. God knows how many more, the Minister won't tell us. The Aurors are hard at work; Harry and Ron have been working over-time for weeks."

"What do you 'ave to do in all of zis?" asked Fleur in her heavily accented English.

"The Minister wants the population to be on guard," said her father, rubbing his mutilated face tiredly. "He's recruiting us Gringotts workers to hang _Wanted_ posters in Diagon Alley; I've been hanging these up all day. The Ministry workers are doing the same thing."

"Oh dear, but you say ze werewolf is on ze loose?" asked her mother. "What about ze girls?"

"It's okay," said Bill wearily, as he had been bitten a few years ago by the same werewolf. "I put the Fidelius Charm on our house; several others have too. It's probably going to turn out like the Second Wizarding War, but, oh well. Better safe than sorry."

Victoire and Dominique got up (having heard enough to be sufficiently frightened) and went upstairs into the bedroom that they shared. Little baby Louis was sleeping peacefully in his crib, in the smallest bedroom. "What is Azkaban?" asked her younger sister curiously.

"It's the _very_ _very_ _very_ bad," said her older sister, stopping to catch her breath, "wizard prison for _very_ bad _criminels_, Dominique! And if Daddy said that there are people who escaped, we are in _trouble_!"

Dominique almost started crying, her blue eyes filling up with tears. "R-Really, Vicky? This isn't _une blague_?"

"_Pourquoi je blaguerai sur ça, petite soeur?_" snapped Victoire in fast French. "Why would I joke about this, little sister?"

Dominique just looked at her, as if she _were_ really hoping this were a joke, then burst into tears. Victoire eyed her awkwardly, and then comfortingly said: "Don't worry, I'm sure Dad and the Ministry will find the bad guys. For now, let's save up for Sneakoscopes!"

**_New Year's Eve 2005, Potter House _**

The ten month-old boy clapped his hands and laughed happily as his godmother and aunt Hermione rolled him a tiny ball that was enchanted to sound like a cow and even smelled like one.

"Moo!" said the little boy, and his black hair shone as the winter sunlight danced, for a moment, inside the house from a nearby window. His hazel eyes were bright and intelligent, and full of a child's mischief.

"That's a C-O-W," said Hermione, laughing with James. "A cow!"

"Oh, Hermione," said her husband, rolling his eyes. "Isn't it a bit early to be teaching him spelling?"

"Ron," replied Hermione, eyeing him lovingly. "It's never too early to learn. The baby has the most active mind, you know."

"What, reading your baby book again?" asked Ron. "Come on, d'you think we'd flunk raising Rosie?"

Hermione blushed and peered into the nearby pink crib that had moving picture of unicorns that giggle when you stroked their fur. "She's still sleeping," she whispered to Ron.

"Do you expect her to be awake all day?" asked Ron. Just then, a voice called: "Ron! Hermione! Dinner!"

It was Ginny, Ron's younger sister. She picked up James and cooed. "My _splendid_ onion soup is ready!" She twirled proudly in her apron.

"Ha, now you worship yourself?" asked Ron a bit angrily but mostly sarcastically. "Very funny, Ginevra."

"It was a damn joke, Ronald Bilius!"

"Ron!" said Hermione indignantly. "Be polite to the host!"

"Right," said Ron moodily. He seemed most sullen. "My sister's the host and I'm brother-in-law with Harry Potter!" He stomped off and locked himself into the bathroom.

"Sorry," said Hermione apologetically. "He's been in a bit of a mood lately. It seems as if he's going through puberty again. Stress at work, you know."

She followed her sister-in-law into the kitchen. It was a brightly lit room with an old-fashioned wood table and a few cosy chairs. There were a few old and dusty-looking portraits that were lying in the corner, their occupants sleeping soundly. Ginny restored old paintings in her spare time when she wasn't working for _The Daily_ _Prophet_. Only one man with curtain-like greasy black hair and cold black eyes was awake, glaring at her.

"Snape?" asked Hermione cautiously. The portrait glared even harder, though he seemed a bit proud of her.

"Hmm," the man mused contemptuously. "The insufferable know-it-all has had _some_ success in her miserable little life. My most sincere congratulations, Mrs. Granger, or shall I say, _Weasley_. Very respectable marriage." He sneered at her.

"Thank you," said Hermione, eyeing Ginny, who pretended to dust the portrait of Gornuk, the goblin. "How are you, Professor?"

"Fine, thank you," replied Snape. "Go on, do have your nice little dinner party with old _Potter_ and _Weasley_, I won't bother you." He pretended to slumber in his chair.

Ginny smiled a bit grimly at her old friend. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but we have to leave him in the kitchen. Last time I tried to move him, he decided to move into the moving portrait of the medieval witch trial we had in the attic, and we had a hard time finding him, there were over five hundred different people painted inside. It was excruciatingly painful, in an exasperating way."

She started moving the different platters of food onto the table. Hermione helped her, and couldn't resist picking off a tiny dark chocolate from a nearby open box. Her ears started getting bigger and bigger until Ginny squirted some yellow nasty-smelling liquid on her face, and they returned to normal size.

"What was that?" asked Hermione, examining her still swollen ears in a mirror over the sink, on the window. "George's –?"

"Yes," answered Ginny. "He sent them in the mail for Christmas. They're an old batch of Fred's. George's away, living in a tent in the Forbidden Forest, seemingly searching for a lost Hallow: the Resurrection Stone."

It made sense; the imitation Fred would be so much help, healing George's emotional wounds. He hadn't cracked yet, but he would soon, Hermione was sure of it. And again, the Resurrection Stone was somewhere, buried deep in the Forbidden Forest.

"Couldn't he use a Niffler?" asked Hermione, as they were creatures who could smell gold. "There is bound to be some gold impregnated in the Stone!"

"I don't know, but you better not give him ideas," said Ginny sadly, and she wiped her hands on her apron, but she didn't cry. "I haven't seen him since Fred's death; he's been abroad and stayed in St Mungo's for a few months two years ago. Now he's in the Forest. Firenze, the centaur, told Hagrid that George was wandering there; then Hagrid told us. He's going to visit today and wait for midnight with us; McGonagall let him, as I'm sure she would come see James and Rosie too, but she has to set an _example_." She snorted.

Harry walked in, looking exhausted, and holding a bundle of Wanted posters. "Hey, Hermione," he said, and kissed her on the cheek. He kissed Ginny too, and took James, and put him into his high chair which was decorated in a Golden Snitch pattern. "Dada!" shrieked James.

"You have more paperwork to do?" inquired Hermione, frowning at the Wanted posters, who had only a title and no captions.

"Yes, Shacklebolt wants us to put the moving photographs; with the Multiplying Charm, I made about twenty of them, since I need ten for each escaped convict. The ones I have are Amycus Carrow and Dolores Umbridge. You girls want to help put the Permanent Sticking Charm? Ron has already refused, and now I'm stuck doing his work."

"Hey!" shouted Ron from the bathroom. "What the hell, Harry! You swore –"

Ginny and Hermione were roaring with laughter. "You got pawned by my brother, Harry!" said Ginny, stopping to catch her breath and struggling to keep herself together. "What did he promise you?"

"Nothing," said Harry stupidly. "He put them on my desk and I only realised I had his work when I talked with Shacklebolt. I'm such an idiot!"

Ron came out, and he stuck his tongue out at Harry in a very immature way. Hermione sighed and Ginny was chortling again. "Come on," said Ginny. "No more self-pity! Let's eat, and cheers for a better new year!"

They raised their cups of Butterbeer and they clinked. "Cheers!"

James clapped his little hands and blew a raspberry.


	2. Werewolf Attack and Dark Mark Concerns

**_February 2006, British Ministry of Magic, Auror Office__, Harry Potter's Cubicle _**

Harry sighed. This was the third time this week that he had fallen asleep on his desk.

He looked around. The lights were closed, and the curtains were draped. He peered at the clock. It read _Midnight, Hunting Time!_ It was a clock for owls, or Animagi who could transform into owls. Harry had snorted when Ron had brought it in, but it was dead useful. It gave you all sorts of advice if you fed it rats, and if you didn't, it coughed up pellets on your desk.

Harry tried to turn the knob of his cubicle, but the door was bolted shut. He knew he wouldn't work, however; it had been bewitched to open only to a password, and the only person who knew it was Robards, the head of the Auror Office, and Robards opened the doors every morning and locked them every night. He usually never looked to see if anyone was inside, and it had happened to his friend Neville who had stayed stranded in his cubicle all night last month.

Suddenly, he heard a noise outside. He put on his Invisibility Cloak; most of the Aurors had one, but his was _the_ Cloak, the Hallow, and he peered through the tiny peephole with his invisible eye.

It was a Death Eater, in his black robes, a half-crazed smile on his battered face. It was Walden Macnair, an escaped convict. He seemed to be leading a group of followers: he could recognize Greyback, Umbridge, and Rookwood. They were all cackling madly, as if they were mentally disturbed.

"Ah," rasped Macnair, rubbing his left forearm. "A pity the Dark Lord's been killed by Harry Potter, Dolly. You could have made a valuable Death Eater."

Umbridge giggle girlishly and nudged the Death Eater, turning a delicate shade of pink. "Oh, Macnair! You're so funny!"

"You want to murder someone?" rasped Greyback. "Let me do it, I haven't eaten human flesh to satisfy my cannibalism for so long..."

"No, don't murder him," answered Macnair. "Maul him savagely, worse than you did with that Weasley boy. We shall deliver him to his wife; we'll see how she takes it!"

Dolores pushed forward a man with cold gray eyes that eyed the trio. His eyes were dazed and unfocused. "Come, Lucius!"

The man leaned forward, and Greyback jumped on him. What Harry saw, he would never forget; Lucius's handsome but snobby face was worse than Bill's; Greyback was ripping his flesh, scratching his eyeballs from his sockets... Soon, his face was gruesome. He was screaming, of agony, as Umbridge joined in and put a touch of Cruciatus. Harry knew he would die or go mad if he just stood there.

He screamed "Auror!" to the door, hoping it was the right password, but it didn't work. The "M" on the door winked at him and stared at his forehead. Harry prayed that it was the password, and didn't even pause to think about why Robards smirked at him each morning. No wonder Neville had turned red when he asked him the password. "Scar!" The "M" nodded, and the door swung open.

Umbridge and Greyback gaped at him when they saw him; however, Macnair shouted: "_Stupefy_!", but luckily, he missed.

Harry used his Auror training in his fight; he pointed his wand at him and shouted: "_Crucio_!"

Macnair writhed on the floor, crumpling in pain. Umbridge glared at him and was about to do a Memory Charm on him, when he did the _Mutatio Skullus_ on Greyback. The werewolf's head became wolf-like, then, it flashed green and another head grew on the top of his head. He ran away, whimpering.

Umbridge took out her wand, but it was too late. Harry had Disarmed her. He snapped her wand in pieces, and then muttered: "_Reducto_!"

The toad-like watched as her wand turned into ashes. Then, she lunged at Harry, who Stunned her.

The Auror grabbed Malfoy's limp body, thankful that the man was still breathing. He walked out of the room and found a nearby chimney that was connected to the Floo Network, tossed some Floo powder in, and stepped into the green fire.

"St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Creature-Induced Injuries!" yelled Harry into the blazing fire, and thought _Levicorpus!_

**_February 2006, St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries _**

Harry landed in the fireplace of the Dangerous Dai Ward. He brushed some ash from his shirt and spoke to a nearby Healer.

"Oi! Katie!"

Katie Bell looked at him in surprise. "Malfoy's just been mauled by Greyback!" yelled Harry.

"Okay," said Katie, looking with concern at the mutilated face of Lucius Malfoy. "I've got to notify the Head of Department, drop him in the bed there."

Harry dropped the inert body of the Malfoy. "I'm going to Apparate into Hermione's house. I'll be back soon."

He disappeared with a soft _pop_.

**_February 2006, Ron__ and Hermione Weasley's house, one-thirty A.M _**

Ron and Hermione woke up at the sound of baby Rosie's wailing. "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!"

Hermione held up her hand: "I'm going to go, okay? You should get some sleep!"

Ron yawned. "Thanks, Hermione. I don't know why you're so lenient, though!"

Hermione walked out of the room. Ron heard her coo to their daughter.

He heard a small pop, and Harry was standing in his room, his robes a bloody mess.

"Mate, what?" asked Ron.

"It wasn't me," said Harry grimly. "Lucius Malfoy's been mauled by Greyback!"

Just then, Hermione arrived. "Greyback, what?"

Harry repeated his declaration. "I was there, you know, locked into the office. I Stunned Umbridge, Greyback is currently running around with two wolf heads, and Macnair and Rookwood are probably prowling around, though. I did the Cruciatus on him. Seeing him getting mauled, it was horrible, even though I hate him. Seeing his eyes ripped out of his sockets, his face worst than Bill's..."

Hermione burst into tears. Ron just stared at him. "You should stay here, mate. Blimey, you should probably be calling Ginny. She must be worried sick."

"Nah, I stopped at home long enough to tell her things," replied Harry.

"What's going to happen to Malfoy?" asked Hermione. "He'll be alright? Greyback wasn't transformed today..."

"I suppose, though he lost his eyes and snobbish face in process. I think he was under the Imperius Curse... I've got to go, you know, check on Malfoy. See you tomorrow!"

With another pop, he disappeared. Ron and Hermione just looked at each other, their faces blank with shock. It was the beginning of another ending.

**_February 2006, Potter House, Ginny and Harry's bedroom _**

Harry felt a surge of revulsion from what he'd seen. He felt like throwing up.

Lucius Malfoy was in St Mungo's, and though Harry had often wished for his death during numerous occasions, the man looked terrible.

His face was now much, much worse than Bill's; Ron's brother could have received a simple cut from Greyback for all he was concerned. It was covered in reddish scars, disfiguring him; his once-handsome face was gruesome, monstrous even. His empty eye sockets made him look like a Mad-eye Moody version of an Inferius. Malfoy's behaviour was most unusual for the former Death Eater: he growled, roared, and snarled at every dab of greenish lotion from the Healers. Greyback's maul seemed to have transfused some lupine qualities into him. He preferred steak or raw meat and was sprouting sharp canines. It was unnerving.

"Harry? Are you coming to bed now?" floated Ginny's voice from the kitchen.

"Yes, I'm coming," said Harry, signing and getting to his feet. He thrust a photograph to his wife. "Look at it," he commanded.

Ginny looked confused, but did as he said. "That's Malfoy," she whispered, a look of revulsion on her face. "Is he really like that now?"

"Yeah, Ginny, but look at this," said Harry, pointing to the man's left forearm. "His Dark Mark is getting darker. _Much_ darker."


	3. Cassiopeia's Worthy Purchase

**_March 2006, Knockturn Alley, Borgin and Burkes_**

Hermione peered into the dark shop. It sold Dark artefacts, like cursed necklaces, Hands of Glory, and rare Death Eater "historical" masks. She would never think of entering the Dark Arts store, if not for Bellatrix Lestrange.

Well, she wasn't completely sure that it was the Death Eater. She looked the same – long black hair, heavily lidded eyes, and a strong jaw – but there was a problem. She was supposed to have died eight years ago, at the hands of Molly Weasley.

Hermione had been buying some nuts from Eeylops Owl Emporium in Diagon Alley when she had seen a familiar figure across the street. When she came closer, she spotted the woman and followed her all the way to Knockturn Alley, so that Hermione could see what she was doing.

She put an Extendable Ear under the grimy door. The woman was talking to Mr. Borgin, who was much more oily-haired than before. His black eyes glittered interestingly and he leaned forward.

"... So we've definitely got a deal?" asked the woman in a mesmerizing voice. Hermione imagined her gaze locked on Borgin's.

"Er... I am not quite sure yet, Cassiopeia," answered the man in a less oily voice uncertainly.

Cassiopeia huffed indignantly. "Look, I need it right now. Do you know how many Mudbloods are still at large? Don't you agree with Macnair?" Her voice was honey-sweet now, very unlike Bellatrix's cackle.

"I suppose... A bit more business wouldn't hurt; now that the new regime is in, not many customers walk towards my once-successful store..."

"I will make the potion," sang Cassiopeia. "I, master of necromancy, will alone be able to make my mother's master rise... Make my mother rise..."

Hermione did not want to hear more. It was obvious that the woman was Bellatrix's daughter, but how come nobody knew she had a daughter? It would have been big news... Unless she had had her before going to Azkaban? It was unlikely... but Bellatrix couldn't come back to life, could she?

And how could Cassiopeia have the gift of true necromancy, a Dark Art that has never worked?

Suddenly, she realised it. The world she had left upon attending Hogwarts... The talk of _her, _always fearfully or defiantly...

The bell rang as she pushed open the door. Hermione hid behind a statue.

Cassiopeia Lestrange looked around her, than hastily opened a grubby-looking package containing -

Hermione gasped. It was the Resurrection Stone. Borgin had sold it to Voldemort's best lieutenant's daughter.


	4. Tedious Explanations

_**March 2006, Ron and Hermione Weasley's house**_

"So," said Ron incredulously, "you're saying that she can really raise the dead?"

"Yes, Ron," said Hermione patiently. "She has the Stone, and you should have heard her voice, it was mesmerizing. I've studied these matters."

She wanted to say more, but she couldn't. Max had called her three days ago to announce that Cassiopeia, who had killed a good number of his half-bloods in battle, had been sighted in Diagon Alley and had recommended the exercise of caution.

"When?" demanded Ron.

She sighed tiredly. She had spent half of her time working in the office, not to mention the time she spent at Eagle Mechanical Services making weapons and teaching mythology to the children. "In my free time," she lied. Truthfully, she had studied it in her Greek and Roman mythology classes in her childhood, before Hogwarts, when her father and mother had decided to send her there to train under Snape.

Ron faced her. He had this really cute look on his face whenever he was confused that she hadn't noticed until her sixth year. "You're not making this up, are you? It sounds like something Luna would say..."

"This _is_ true, Ron," retorted Hermione. "I think you should tell Robards about it. She's a public security danger."

He shrugged. "Do you think Robards will believe me?"

Hermione shook her head grimly. "We would have to tell Harry, though."

_**March 2006, **__**Eagle Mechanical Services, Spinner's End Boulevard **_

"Sir, on our last visit to Olympus," began Mikaila hesitantly to the portrait of their fellow teacher, "We've heard things. Whispers of the rising of Saturn from the pits of Tartarus by a mortal host in America."

He nodded grimly and took a sip of Sprite (who would paint him with a can of Sprite was a mystery to Mikaila). "They are true," he replied quietly.

Fergus shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Should we go help them?" asked Genevieve anxiously.

Professor Snape shook his head. "We have our _own_ problem here, children. And have _they_ helped us in times of need? No."

"And something else," said Fergus, "sir, we've sighted Cassiopeia in Diagon Alley."

"Diagon Alley?" asked the man in the painting. "Hmm. Where is Max, by the way?"

"He went to oversee the problem," answered Genevieve. "With a couple of magic campers. _She_ went to buy some type of stone."

His face darkened.

"What is it?" asked Mikaila.

"You should go see the Hunters," suggested the man. "They're staying for a few days in the building."

The Hunters, both of Artemis and Diana, were playing Nintendo in the lounge.

"Hey guys!" greeted Mikaila.

They heard a boom from the screen and someone curse loudly. A tall, buff girl with long dirty blond hair tied in a braid with silver ribbons was waggling her fist to it. "_Jove_! You blasted Bowser, how dare - !"

She caught sight of them and glared at Mikaila. "You made me get hit by a shell! A red one!" She sighed and paused her Mario Kart game.

"You were losing anyways," muttered Fergus.

Before the girl could retort, Genevieve put her hand up in truce. "Hey, calm down. We just wanted to ask you something."

Other girls with silvery glows came into focus in the room as she turned on the lights. A short teenage girl with pale skin, dark eyes, and short black hair grinned broadly while another with dark skin and curly brown hair in a ponytail got up. "Kaila, Ginny! Fergus!"

The Bowser girl (Hallie) sat on a sofa. "Ask away." She opened a package of Maynards candies and started munching on a lime-flavoured one.

Genevieve explained about the stone while Fergus and Mikaila caught up with their friends Raven, daughter of Hades, and Lina, daughter of Nike.

"What have you two been doing since December?" she asked, sipping a glass of orange soda.

"Hunters stuff," replied Raven, looking bored. "Setting up traps, tracking down monsters that Cassiopeia could recruit and capturing them. You?"

Mikaila shrugged. "I'm studying ancient history in London," she smiled slyly at Fergus. "And Fergie here's been going with Ginny since they're both studying art."

Fergus blushed and messed up his already messy blond hair.

"Really?" asked Lina, helping herself to a tortilla chip and dipping it in salsa sauce. "Interesting. Any snogging lately?"

Fergus shook his head fervently. Lina and Raven laughed.

Meanwhile, Genevieve finished her story. Hallinda (Or Hallie) was a daughter of Mars, Roman god of war, and Diana's lieutenant. She looked grave for once.

"I swore I wouldn't tell," she said, shaking her head. "But if Professor Snape wants us to tell... The odds of victory are grim."

Genevieve tugged at her mousy brown hair.

"The Resurrection Stone was created along with the two other Hallows by three brothers," counted Hallie. "Most wizards are familiar with this story. The first was the Elder Wand. It was created by Antioch Peverell, son of Mars. The second was the Cloak of Invisibility, created by Ignotus Peverell, son of Athena. The third was the Resurrection Stone, created by Cadmus Peverell, son of Hades. The Stone was passed from generation to generation, until it reached the Gaunts. Marvolo Gaunt made it into a ring. When the Gaunts died out, the Dark Lord went and made it into a Horcrux. Albus Dumbledore, son of Athena, went to find it and destroyed it. Professor Snape succeeded in saving him from the curse and gave him a year to live. In his will, Dumbledore gave the stone to Harry Potter, a mortal wizard hero. The boy didn't want it and it ended up buried in the Forbidden Forest. And then, a man who was passing found it, and sold it to Cassiopeia."

"But how do you use it?"

"Cadmus Peverell used it to channel his ability to summon the dead, although he tried to raise his love, but it didn't work, as she was a trick sent by Hades himself. Harry Potter, since the Stone had been inactive for so long, succeeded in summoning spirits even though he was a pure mortal. It can only, however, in normal circumstances, be used by a child of Death, a Helm of Darkness, a child of the Underworld."

Everyone looked at Raven, who shrugged. "I've never really tried to summon the dead," she said. "Not really useful or interesting."

"Why do you need to channel the ability?"

Hallie bit off a chunk of bread. "The entrance of the Underworld, same as Mount Olympus, is in Greece. The farther you are, the harder it is to summon. I tried to summon the power of Mars once. Made me pass out for hours, but not a single result. There's also a question of power. Raven's pretty powerful, even Artemis says so."

"I could call Jeremy," suggested Raven. "He lives in Bristol, where he works as a medium."


	5. Draco's Woe and Her Orders

_**March 2006, Malfo**__**y Manor **_

Draco held up his Marked arm. Astoria could now see the Dark Mark clearly. It was now grey, almost black.

"Who's Summoning you?"

He shook his head. "The Dark Lord died at the hands of Potter," he said shakily. "Not even he... could come back from the dead. I've seen it with my own two eyes."

Suddenly, he grimaced again. "It feels like it's burning," he gasped.

"Surely not," Astoria said, and came over. The serpent was contorting, but after a second the movement stopped.

They looked at each other. "Probably... Someone else," said Draco. "Another Dark wizard or witch. Who else would have given the order to Greyback to maul Father?"

"Maybe the bloody werewolf himself?" she suggested.

"No, I knew him. He has passably no free will in these matters. Yes, he bites children at the full moon, but mauling requires much more energy in the human form. Someone is controlling him and the other escapees."

_**March 2006, Lestrange Manor Graveyard **_

Cassiopeia unscrewed the cap of the Butterbeer bottle and poured the entire contents in the hole she had dug. She knelt beside it and started chanting in Ancient Greek. The ghost beside her shifted uncomfortably. "My Lady –"

"Shut your trap, Bellerophoron," snapped Cassiopeia, giving him a glare so much that he shivered, his form rippling. "Unless you want me to summon you back into the Fields of Punishment?"

"N-no, my Lady," murmured the youth. "Of course not."

She restarted her ritual. Ghosts appeared, drinking out of the hole. "One at the time," she ordered. "The guy in front, come to your mistress."

The ghost that floated forward was that of a man with bloody robes and long black hair.

"Tell me, Snape," said Cassiopeia in an unctuous voice, "What is your attack plan against my army?"

He shook his head with difficulty. "I can't tell you."

"You're _helpful_," hissed the woman dangerously. "Fine, I won't need your help. My spies can do their job, then."

She pointed her wand at him, and his form shimmered, and then dissipated.

"You there," she gestured to the tall woman that greatly resembled her. "Bellatrix."

The ghost widened her heavily lidded eyes. "Yes, daughter," she murmured.

"Go to Malfoy Manor. I want you to capture the image and bring it back here, in the Lestrange Manor Graveyard. I want to see how bad Lucius is."

She nodded and disappeared. Cassiopeia gestured at the ghostly form of a portly man with fair hair.

"You, Mudblood, go to Dirigible Plum Bungalow. I need an image of Luna Lovegood, daughter of Athena."


	6. Harry's Suggestion

_**April 2006,**__** Potter House **_

"That's it," said Harry as Hermione finished telling him the story. "We'll need to get the Order together again."

Ron made a popping noise with his mouth and looked like some type of red-headed blowfish.

"It's that serious?" he asked.

Harry nodded grimly. "I mean, look – the Death Eaters suddenly break out of Azkaban – _without turning into Animagi_. Malfoy gets mauled. Hermione sees Bellatrix's daughter lurking in Knockturn Alley. I have a feeling it's _her_. And if the Resurrection Stone really works – Borgin would have known how to tinker with it, his father studied necromancy – we're screwed. She'll resuscitate Voldemort and the other vile Death Eaters that died in the Battle."

_**April 2006,**__** Mundungus's Dumpster **_

"OI!"

Ron was shaking Mundungus Fletcher awake. He guessed this was Harry's revenge for blackmailing him into doing the Wanted posters.

The Dumpster in which he was sleeping smelled, well – like a Dumpster.

The old drunk snorted and shook his head. "Gimme my money back, Will!"

"OI! YOU OLD DRUNK, WAKE UP!"

Mundungus got up and rubbed his bloodshot eyes. "Whaddya want, Weasley?" he grumbled. "Don' tell me, you want some of my beauties here? I have a thirteeth century glass of mead, it's delicious, lad –"

Ron sighed. "The Order is recruiting again," he hissed as he grabbed the other man by the scruff of his neck. "There's a meeting over in Spinner's End, you coming?"

"Eh?" he asked, confused. "You-Know-Who is gone, isn' he?"

"He might come back," said Ron. "Look, it's tonight, ask around for Severus Snape's house."

And he jumped out and Disapparated.


	7. Between Summoning and Necromancy

_**April 2006, the Paroles of the Beyond the Grave**_

The phone started ringing. Jeremy groaned. He had just gotten back from his honeymoon, and now the customers were hording him again?

He picked it up and put on his mysterious medium's voice. "Hello?"

The man heard his sister's fifteen year-old voice in the receiver. "Jeremy, you really don't need to sound like that, it's creepy. Where were you? Lina and the rest of us at E.M.S have been trying to reach you for about a month!"

"Oh," he said stupidly, "I was on my honeymoon with Tara, Rav."

"Oh, I've forgotten," cried Raven. "Anyways, we need you. You need to teach me how to summon the dead."

There was a silence. "Does this have to do with _her_?"

"Everything to do with her," replied Raven. "Meet me and Hallie in that Thai food restaurant near your office."

_**April 2006, Thai Express **_

Raven grinned at her brother. While she had chosen to become a Hunter of Artemis, he had grown up. He was a tall man with short chocolate brown hair and eyes the same shade. He wore a short-sleeved t-shirt with the inscription Paris and jeans. Raven could see his skull tattoo on his right arm.

"Hey, Jer," said Hallie. They waited for him to finish ordering and for the waitress to leave, and then she said, "I hope you got me some steak, at least."

Jeremy rolled his eyes at her. "Of course I did, did you think I'd forgotten after what you did to me last time? I woke up that night with a horde of deer in my bedroom!"

Hallie shrugged. "Oops. Never underestimate the power of Artemis, my friend."

"So." Jeremy put a hand on the table. He turned to his sister. "You said you wanted me to teach you Summoning."

Raven nodded.

"And that has to do with...?"

"There is an uprising in the," Raven lowered her voice, "magical world of the old what they call 'Death Eaters' who broke out of the prison. Except the prison cannot really be escaped. We think this may be linked with _her_."

"Her," said Jeremy slowly. "Yes, that must be the cause. She is, after all, demonic of some sort –"

"Of _every_ sort," muttered Hallie. "Trust me, I've had to fight her. Not fun."

"What you must understand, sis, is that there is a difference between being a Summoner and a necromancer," continued the demigod. "A Summoner merely summons the dead. A necromancer raises them. When a Summoner summons skeletons, for example, they become animated, but they do not keep their mortal personalities. When a necromancer raises them, they become animated and are basically a mortal replica of them as bones."

"And she is a necromancer?" asked Raven, grimacing. She already knew the answer.

"One of the most powerful in existence," replied Jeremy grimly.


End file.
